Forgotten
by ThexOdds
Summary: When the BAU gets called into Vegas to help with a recently reopened case, Reid is forced to remember the worst event of his life. The abduction of his best friend.   Includes OCs.
1. Chapter 1

**Reid's POV**

The team sat in the conference room, waiting around for JJ to brief a case to us.

"Hi guys," she said as she quickly came in, "Sorry I'm late." After a couple more words were exchanged she said, "Okay, well this is actually a case that went cold, but has recently been taken back into consideration by the local law enforcement."

"In 1994, a young girl in Las Vegas was abducted off the streets. No body was ever found," she clicked a button on the remote and a picture showed up on the screen. "This was the last photo taken of her."

I looked up and felt sick to my stomach. I would recognize the wild mane of untamed red hair anywhere. I stood up quickly before even thinking about it, "I'll be right back." I said, promptly hurrying out of the room. I went into the bathroom, locked the door and ran a hand through my hair.

Her name kept ringing in my ears,

_Bridget O'Reilley  
>Bridget O'Reilley<br>Bridget O'Reilley_

She was supposed to be out of my life forever. She was gone, but a day didn't go by without me thinking of her. Bridget was my best, and only, childhood friend. And _just_ as I was beginning to not think about her everyday, she just comes back into my life in the form of a case.

I heard a knock on the door, then Hotch, "Reid. Why don't you come back now?"

Suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed, I unlocked the door and walked back to the conference room. As I walked in, everyone turned to look at me and I avoided eye contact with them all.

"Okay," Morgan started, looking at JJ, "So, she disappeared and was never heard from again. What if she was just a runaway?"

I felt uncomfortable all over again. Bridget wasn't a runaway, that's what everyone tried to tell me when I was kid, but that's not what had happened.

"Well, that's the thing. Everyone believed she was a runaway until recently when gunshots and shouting have been heard from her old home," JJ replied.

"And the police haven't investigated the house?"

"They have, but every time it's just dust and mold like any abandoned house. No signs of anyone living there. Not even a paid electric or water bill. Nothing."

"Alright," Hotch stood up, "Let's get going."

Morgan looked at him in disbelief. Hotch noticed.

"Someone out there cares about this girl. They deserve to know the truth," he said.

"After eighteen years?" Morgan replied.

"People shouldn't be forgotten."

* * *

><p><strong>((Third person))<strong>

Meanwhile, somewhere in a dark, dank, scary place, sat a young woman. Maybe twenty-nine years of age. She sat on her creaky old bed and stared down at her hands. Her bright orange hair hiding her face. She sucked in a deep breath and didn't even notice when the door opened and a man walked in.

He closed the door behind him, returning the room to its original darkness. With no windows, that door was the only thing that let in light, but the man always kept it locked.

She jumped a little when he sat down next to her.

"What's wrong, pumpkin?" he asked, running his fingers through her hair.

She looked over at him the minute he spoke, "N-nothing, sir."

Even in the dark she saw that his expression changed. His stare grew cold and serious.

She quickly corrected herself,"I –I mean…uh, daddy."

* * *

><p><strong>Don't lie to yourself, you know you like it, and if you don't…then, sorry. I am proud of it, though, and I hope you enjoyed it and will continue reading.<br>Rememer this _IS_ my very first Criminal Minds fanfiction, and it _DOES_ get better. I just hope SOMEBODY likes it so far.**

**~Nikki**


	2. Chapter 2

On the jet, Reid was sitting, pretending to be reading a book. He was really just staring and running his fingers over an old picture.

"Alright," Morgan came over and sat down across from him. "What's up?"

Reid looked up at him, "What's up? What do you mean? Nothing."

"Reid, you ran out that room faster than JJ could say 'press conference'. You can't expect me to believe that nothing's wrong," he replied.

Reid shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "It's nothing. Really."

"Reid." Morgan repeated, more seriously, looking him dead in the eye.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and said, "It's just, eighteen years ago… I was the same age as that girl, Bridget. I mean, we lived in the same place, were the same age… it could have been me, but…but it was her." He told the truth, just not all of it. It _could _have been him. In fact it almost was. Except he wasn't the kind to talk about his personal life. Of course, he planned to tell them when it became absolutely necessary, but he hadn't felt that time had come yet.

"Hey don't worry about it. There was nothing you could do. But now there is. And that's why we're goin' to Vegas," Morgan replied.

Reid nodded a little, and looked around awkwardly while he drummed him fingers on the arm of the chair.

JJ came over and sat down next to him, they were sitting across from Hotch and Morgan while Rossi stood.

"So, the neighbors heard gunshots from the house?" Hotch asked, looking at JJ.

"Yeah."

"And how long after did they start hearing shouting?" he questioned.

"Uh," JJ pondered the question, "Sometimes days, other times weeks."

"Were any other girls taken after the shooting started?" Rossi asked, looking inside a folder.

"None," she said immediately, already having asked Garcia about it.

"So, he knows how to treat gunshot wounds," Morgan chimed in.

"He's in the medical profession," Rossi said. 'That's a good start."

Hotch looked at Reid, "Reid, you and Morgan head down to the victim's house and check it out. JJ, Rossi and I will go down to the police department."

* * *

><p>Morgan and Reid walked into the former O'Reilley home. Once the jet had landed, they met the sheriff of the local PD, Scott Marley, and then everyone set off to do their own business.<p>

"Reid?"

"Yeah?" Reid replied, looking over his shoulder at Morgan.

"Did you know this girl?" he asked, looking up at the younger agent suspiciously.

"What? No," he lied. 'Where would you get that idea?"

"It's just not like you to seem so personally related to a case."

Reid sighed, "It's complicated.

Morgan decided to drop the subject. For a little while. After they had looked around the abandoned house, and found nothing useful, they left.

* * *

><p>Little did they know that they were <em>so<em> close to what they were looking for. Once the man had heard the two agents leave, confident that they could no longer hear them, he moved his hand away from the young woman's mouth.

"It's alright, cupcake, they're gone now. They were going to try and take you away from me," he explained, truly thinking that keeping her quiet was to keep her safe.

The redhead held back sobs, knowing that was her best chance of getting out of the hell hole she was trapped in.

She spoke, using all her power to not let her voice crack or shake, "Daddy?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Do you think I could possibly… go outside?"

He looked down at her, shocked. "Honey, you know you can't."

"But," she exclaimed, standing up quickly, "It's been such a long time and –"

She was interrupted when he stood up, towering over the tiny girl, and quickly smacked her across the face, sending her fragile body tumbling to the ground. She lightly touched the red spot on her face with the tips of her fingers and it stung terribly. She felt tears well up in her eyes, threatening to fall.

The man apologetically helped her up from the ground and cradled her like a child.

"How about you come to the grocery store with me this Friday? But you have to stay in the car."

Excitement filled her. It would be the first time in months (or maybe years, she gave up keeping track of the days long ago) she was allowed outside. Despite her joy, she was still hurting the slap in the face and the tears flowed anyway.

The man hugged her tight, "Shh. Shhh. It's okay. Don't cry little Bridget."


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, this chapter is really short. Mostly because it's just a filler chapter. An_ important _filler chapter!**

* * *

><p>Did you find anything?" Hotch asked as Morgan and Reid walked into the police department.<p>

"Nope," Morgan answered.

"Actually, I was thinking," Reid started, "Obviously, someone is in the house shooting and another person screaming. Since nothing's been found –"

"There must be another location," Rossi finished.

"Exactly," Reid said, "But someone just walking into an abandoned house can't seem normal to neighbors. So, he most likely works as a handyman, real estate agent, some type of job where he is not suspected for walking into the house."

"So he lives close and works at the house?" JJ chimed in.

"Exactly."

"Nice job, Reid," Hotch complemented the young man. Reid smiled slightly, not sure how else to respond to the praise.

* * *

><p><strong>Friday (4:45 pm)<strong>

Hotch hurried into a room inside the police department where the team was talking.

"Someone saw her," he stated immediately. "Or so we can assume."

"Someone saw Bridget?" JJ asked incredulously.

"We think so."

Reid felt so overwhelmed with relief. His friends was alright. No one noticed Reid's hidden joy… except Morgan.

"Well, what happened?" JJ asked.

_Friday, 2:30 pm_

_Twenty-two year old Mikey Jamison had just finished his shopping for the day. He planned to go straight home and have a romantic afternoon with his girlfriend. Unfortunately, that didn't happen._

_As he was walking towards his car, he noticed something strange out of the corner of his eye. When he looked over, there was a big, dark green SUV with windows so dark they were almost tinted. But, when he looked closely, he could see something odd. He looked around cautiously before making his way towards the vehicle._

_He walked up to the window where, as he got closer he could see, a girl pounding her fists against the glass. She seemed to be shouting, but he couldn't hear her. He found it weird that whoever drove this vehicle didn't want anyone to see or hear what was going on inside._

_The woman had bright orange hair and big blue eyes with tons of freckles. As Mikey approached the car, she slowly stopped hitting the glass. _

"_Are you okay?" he shouted, although she couldn't hear him. He realized she was locked in, most likely child-lock or something. _

_She seemed to know that he wouldn't be able to hear her, so she breathed on the glass and wrote something on the condensation. _

_The word was what really confused him. On the glass in capital letters it spelt, 'DADDY.' She looked in the direction of the store and quickly erased the word before motioning for him to run. He got the message and ran off in the direction of his own car._

_As soon as he got home, he called the police. Although he didn't get a good look at the man or the license plate, he still managed to give a description of the car and what he was pretty sure the man looked like._

"She wrote 'daddy' on the window?" Reid asked, trying to make sense of the odd message Bridget had tried to send.

"What could that mean?" Morgan said afterwards.

"Nothing I could think of," JJ replied.

"Unless…" Rossi said, getting that look on his face that he gets every time he thinks of a good theory, and walking into the main room.

* * *

><p><strong>Yes, my chapters are short, but they're consistent and make sense so….woo-hoo! I hope you still like my story. I'm losing confidence…<strong>

**But I will continue! Huzzah!**


	4. Chapter 4

'This man is completely delusional," Rossi began as he gave the profile of the unsub to the police. "He could not have a child of his own, so he decided to take one."

"We believe he is in his mid-thirties to late forties. He was once married, or in a serious relationship, but they would have split up quite awhile ago," Hotch added.

"He doesn't want anyone to about what he did, so he will act extremely friendly," Morgan chimed in. "It may come across as insincere or even sarcastic kindness."

"Look for men who seem to know a lot about home maintenance. He will be driving a dark green SUV with sound proof glass and dark windows," Reid said.

"If you see anyone that fits this description please contact us immediately," Hotch finished. It wasn't too much of a profile to go by, but it was the best they could do for the time being.

The team was sitting in around the place where they had set up when Reid walked up.

"Hey guys. I remember the day she – Bridget, I mean - disappeared was a Sunday and I was going to church for one of the first times. My sixty-seven year old neighbor, Mrs. Swann, took Bridget to get ice cream," he said quickly.

Hotch stood up, "Call Garcia, find out where Mrs. Swann lives. We need to talk to her."

Morgan whipped out his cell phone, and dialed up Garcia.

"I'm sorry. Penelope Garcia is not _available_ to _traitors_ who _forget her,_" Garcia said once she answered.

"I'm sorry baby girl, we need some info."

"Oh, alright." Morgan could practically hear her smiling, "But I expect some love making in return," she said.

"Absolutely. With Reid, that is," he replied.

"Why do you always mention me when you're talking to Garcia?" Reid asked.

Without answering Morgan continued speaking to her, "We need to find a Mrs. Swann."

"Hon, do you realize how many Mrs. Swanns there are in this world?"

"She lives in Las Vegas and has lived here for at least nineteen years," Morgan narrowed down the list.

"I've got six," Garcia replied.

"Reid," Morgan turned to his young friend, "What was her first name?"

"Uh…I don't know. I think it was Agnes, or Edith or something," Reid answered.

Morgan turned back and spoke into the phone, "Any Agnes Swann's?"

"Yes!" Garcia smiled.

Garcia gave the team the address and they set off to go see Mrs. Agnes Swann.

* * *

><p>Reid, Morgan and JJ sat on the couch inside the old woman's home. Hotch and Rossi had stayed at with the police in case another witness called. Mrs. Swann entered the room again, walking shakily and set a tea tray on the coffee table in front of them.<p>

She sat down in an old looking chair across from them all.

"So, what's this about then?" she asked kindly, readjusting the glasses on her nose.

"First off, thank you for allowing us in to question you Mrs. Swann," JJ smiled.

"Please, call me Agnes. And I'm happy to have you here. It's been so long since I've seen you Spencer," she smiled at Reid, "You've gotten so tall and skinny. You haven't been eating enough, have you? And you've been drinking coffee again, I can tell. You drank too much when you were small and now you have no meat on your bones." Agnes scolded Reid like she was his grandmother.

"Agnes, we have a few questions to ask you regarding the disappearance of Bridget O'Reilley," JJ said quickly before the old lady could go too far off subject.

"Oh yes. I remember her. A very nice little girl, quite odd though." She took a sip of her tea before continuing, "She was always doing things in the best interest of others." Mrs. Swann nodded her head as she remembered the thirteen year old girl known as Bridget.

"You were last person seen with her before she was taken," Morgan informed her.

She shook her head, "No I wasn't."

"May I ask you what happened the last time you saw her?" JJ asked.

Reid stiffened as she asked that. _Oh, please don't remember. Please don't remember, he_ silently prayed to himself.

Agnes readjusted herself in her seat before she spoke, "Well…"

_Sunday, November 20, 1994_

_Bridget skipped out of church with her best friend, Spencer Reid, by her side. They planned to go to the park and hang out after church that day but plans changed when Spencer's neighbor, Mrs. Swann, wobbled up to them._

"_Good morning Spencer. Bridget," she smiled at them._

"_Good morning, Mrs. Swann," Bridget replied with her usual cheeriness._

"_I was going to take my grandson to get some ice cream after church today, but he got sick before he and my daughter got here so they stayed at home. I was wondering if you would like to come with me to the ice cream parlor," the old woman offered. "If your parents approve, of course."_

_Spencer couldn't ask his mother because he was at church for the first time and it was because Bridget suggested he come, but Bridget's parents agreed and said they would tell Spencer's mother when they got home. _

_So, the children went along and got ice cream and them sitting on the curb was the last Mrs. Swann ever saw of Bridget._

"Wait a second," Morgan said, "Who was with Bridget and you?"

She gestured to Reid as if it was the most casual and obvious thing ever, "Spencer, of course. It was the first time he ever went to church and he never came back."

At the confirmation that it was Spencer Reid. The young FBI profiler. _Their _Reid, Morgan stood up and pulled Reid out of earshot of the girls, he whispered, "Reid. _What _do you know?'


	5. Chapter 5

Reid opened his mouth to deny that he knew anything again, but the second he looked at Morgan and how serious he looked, he knew he couldn't. He sighed.

"I met Bridget when I was five. We were best friends since," Reid answered.

"Reid! Why didn't you tell us before? You could've been a lot of help," Morgan replied.

"I- I'm sorry. I just… I didn't want her to be a part of my life anymore. I just want to forget about her, but…" he looked down, "When you're me, you just don't forget."

* * *

><p>The team sat around in a circle while Reid explained what happened.<p>

"I needed something to do that day, and so Bridget brought me with her to church. I was so confused while I was there. I think Mrs. Swann wanted to make me feel less embarrassed, so she took us out to ice cream," he began, "We were just sitting on the curb while Mrs. Swann was inside using the bathroom." He sounded sad and upset as he continued the story, like a little boy who lost his mom in the department store. "This guy pulled up in a van, and asked directions to Winchester. I didn't want to talk to him, but Bridge helped him out. Then he just… took her."

A few members realized that he used a nickname for Bridget. It broke JJ's heart to hear her friend's voice crack as he told the story.

"Reid, why didn't you tell us?" Hotch asked; his voice serious.

Reid looked away, because really didn't have an answer. He felt selfish all of a sudden. Because he didn't want to talk to a stranger, Bridget got kidnapped. Because he wanted to just forget about her, Bridget was not a single step closer to getting rescued. Because he wouldn't talk to his team, Bridget could possibly endure a whole lifetime in captivity. Those were the things that ran through his head.

"What did he look like?" Rossi asked, trying to get Hotch to lay off for a second and not make Reid feel like a selfish son of a bitch.

"Well, he was bald and pale. With brown eyes and a goatee. And… he had a tattoo on his wrist that said, _Sydney Marie- 1992," _Reid answered recalling what the man looked like immediately. Although, he didn't see how it would matter. A person can change a lot in eighteen years. Especially a wanted criminal.

"Sydney Marie…" Hotch muttered to himself before turning to Morgan. "Get Garcia on the phone."

Morgan opened his phone, dialed the number, and put it on speaker.

"Hello my dearest," Garcia answered.

"Garcia we need the birth records for," Hotch started then looked to Reid, "What's the closest hospital?"

"Spring Valley," Reid answered.

He continued speaking to Garcia, "Spring Valley hospital, 1992."

Within seconds Garcia answered, "I've got 'em. Anything specific you need?"

"Were there any Sydney's born that year?"

"Yes. Twenty-three."

"How about Sydney Marie?" Hotch questioned trying to narrow down the list.

"There were five: Sydney Marie Gallaway, Sydney Marie Jones, Sydney Marie Jackson, Sydney Marie Anthony, and Sydney Marie Rose."

"Did any of them die the same year they were born?" Reid asked into the phone.

"Two."

"Which two?" Hotch asked.

"Rose and Gallaway."

"Are their parents still alive?" Reid said.

"Well, Sydney Gallaway's father commited suicide after she died and her mother is in jail. Sydney Rose's parents split up on September 12, 1994," Garcia answered.

They all glanced around at each other, their mouths open slightly. 1994 was the year Bridget was taken and September was only two months before.

"Does one of them still live in Vegas?" Rossi asked.

"The father."

"Can you get us the address?" Hotch asked quickly; ready to go and catch the bastard that took Bridget.

"Sir, I think you mean 'how fast can you get us the address,'" Garcia said before sending the address to Morgan's phone.

"Let's go," Hotch called, already half-way out the door.


	6. Chapter 6

On the way to the address they had gotten, the team was informed that the man's name was Sam Rose. He had been arrested for assault and unauthorized possession of firearms when he was younger but around 1993 he became a model citizen.

* * *

><p>Hotch and Morgan stood on the two sides of the front door while Reid and Rossi went around to the back door.<p>

"Sam Rose, FBI!" Hotch stated, making sure he would be heard from the other side of the door. After a few moments of waiting, and no one coming to the door, Morgan quickly opened it. Their guns ready, the two hurried inside; as did Reid and Rossi from the back.

They checked every room and found nothing. Then Morgan found the closet near the kitchen. After he pushed away the coats and cleaning supplies, he found at least fifteen guns.

"Hey, guys. I think you need to see this," he called. One by one, the other men came and looked at the collection.

Just as Reid was about to say something, they heard the front door open, then close. They looked at each other, held their guns up and Hotch shouted, "Sam Rose! FBI! Put your hands where I can see them!"

The team hurried into the front room to find a tall, dark haired woman, using one hand to hold onto the hand of a little girl who strongly resembled her, and the other to hold onto a grocery bag. You could easily tell she was pregnant. The men lowered their guns.

"What's this about?" the woman demanded, putting down her groceries and picking up the small child.

The young woman, whose name they had learned was Bella, sat on the couch while her daughter, Celia, colored in a book on the table in front of them.

* * *

><p>"<em>What <em>is this _about?"_ Bella demanded once more, letting them know it was the last time she would be asking. Reid and Morgan sat across from her while Hotch stood and Rossi leaned against the arm of the couch.

"Maybe you should have her go," Rossi suggested, gesturing to Celia.

"Cece, baby." Bella said, to Celia.

The small girl turned.

"Go color in your room." Celia stood up, grabbed her book and crayons, and ran off towards her room.

"Miss, what are you and your daughter doing in this house?" Morgan asked the moment Celia closed her door.

"We live here, of course," she answered sharply as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Does Sam Rose live here as well?"

Bella's expression changed completely. "Yes," she answered slowly, "Why is he in trouble?"

"Ma'am, we have reason to believe he is responsible for the abduction of Bridget O'Reilley," Hotch answered.

Bella's jaw dropped and she looked at the team in disbelief, "S- Sam?" Reid started to say something but she was in too much shock to notice, "He… couldn't. He wouldn't. I…he," she mumbled, trying to make sense of what she was hearing.

"Do you know where he is?" Reid asked her.

She looked up at them, "He's at work."

* * *

><p>Before they knew it, the team was in their cars again, heading towards the place Bella had told them to go. Now, most people would get pretty annoyed jumping from place to place looking for one man. But not the BAU.<p>

Just as they had guessed, he worked as a housekeeper for abandoned homes and the O'Reilley home was one of them. Rossi, JJ and Morgan went to the house to keep an eye out for him while Reid and Hotch stayed. They were currently standing in front of Sam's boss. Well, former boss.

"Sorry, guys. Sam was fired three days ago," the large man apologized.

"Did he leave anything?" Reid asked.

The man racked his brain, and then seemed to have remembered something. "He left this." He walked off into another room then came back holding an envelope.

Hotch took it and opened it up. Scrawled on the back of the folded piece of paper, it said 'FBI.'

He unfolded it and stared at the paper seriously as he read it.

_FBI,_

_I know you are here. Go away. You can't take my baby girl away from me. She's mine. She thinks Spencer is DEAD, so don't bother trying to reason with her through him. She thinks you hated and didn't care about her, Spencer. You can't have her. I love her. Leave!_

The two agents stared at the paper and weren't exactly sure what to think of it.

"She thinks I hated her?" Reid asked – a little more to himself than anyone else- swallowing the lump in his throat.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile in the little hidden room that entrapped dear Bridget, Bridget was beginning to have a breakdown. The poor girl felt herself going crazier by the second. All those years she never saw the sunshine, all those years she cried about her parents, all those years she held it in were beginning to catch up with her. And finally she snapped.<p>

She slammed herself against the door and the wall, throwing things, screaming at the top of her lungs, knowing no one could hear her. She let tears fall from her eyes as she shouted, "Let me out! Let me out of here!" and then she just screamed some more.

Eventually, she stopped. But the rage and depression still bubbled inside her. She fell flat on her back onto her bed and felt the necklace that hung around her neck. It was wooden and hand-carved.

Her best friend – Spencer was his name if she remembered correctly – gave to her on her thirteenth birthday. He had one too, _But he probably tossed his out. He didn't care. _She thought angrily. She felt around the sides of the mattress and felt something odd.

She grabbed it, sat up, and looked at it the best she could in the darkness. She ran her hands over it and realized what it was. Cold, hard, smooth…sharp. Glass.

This was it, she realized. This was her escape. She could end it all. Right there. Right then. So nervously, she touched the blade to her left wrist, took a deep breath, and dragged it across.


	7. Chapter 7

**Fun fact! Bridget was originally named Lola O'Reilley and was meant for a completely different story where she and Spencer are thirteen and she commits suicide. Then this story popped into my brain and smashed that idea to pieces. By the way, this chapter is constantly changing scenes and I hope I don't confuse you. Continuing!**

* * *

><p>Reid flipped open his phone after about two rings.<p>

"Yeah, Morgan?" he answered calmly.

Reid's calm mood was in extreme contrast to Morgan demanding reply. "Reid. You and Hotch need to get over here _now._"

"Why? What happened?" he asked, become panicked himself.

"Lots of screaming from inside the house," Morgan replied.

Reid closed the cell phone and stuffed it into his pocket, "We gotta' go, Hotch." Without question, Hotch followed the younger agent and climbed into the car.

* * *

><p>"Honey," Sam Rose called quietly as he waked down the stairs towards where Bridget was kept. He had seen those FBI people outside so he went around the back, jumped the fence and went through the back door. "Are you okay? I saw those people outside?"<p>

When he walked into the room, though, he saw the blood that covered her arms and wrists. What he assumed at first was that she accidentally hurt herself on the corner of something. Then he saw the glass in her hand.

Now, in a situation such as this, most "parents" (or kidnappers who believe they're parents, whichever you prefer) would call an ambulance, stop the bleeding, get a doctor, talk about self-harm and it's consequences but no. Sam Rose was not that kind of caring person.

He got _mad._

* * *

><p>Reid and Hotch arrived at the house quickly and found Morgan and Rossi standing by the door, guns drawn.<p>

"Where's JJ?" Hotch asked.

"She's around back. She went about a minute ago," Rossi answered. Without order, Reid hurried to join her and Hotch pulled out one of his guns.

"Sam Rose! Come out with your hands where I can see them!"

* * *

><p>Sam did his best to keep his voice down as unnatural rage bubbled inside him. Bridget had failed at her task to kill herself so far. She hadn't even passed out. She felt the blood leaving her body, but it didn't feel like much had gone.<p>

"Why did you do this?" he demanded, keeping his voice to a whisper. Not allowing her to answer, he continued. "You tried to escape! I can't believe you! After everything I've done for you!"

"I hate you!" she replied furiously. "You've been nothing but terrible to me! Screw you! I'm twenty-nine! Let me live on my own!" Hoping he would simply let her die, she repeated, "Screw you!"

"What was that?"

"Screw you!" she replied, loud as she could manage. This was less than a shout, but more than an average speaking voice.

He looked at her with fury and pulled a gun out of his pocket. Bridget shrunk back. Yes, she was sick of her life in the dark. Yes, she wanted to die. But not at the hands of _him_. She never wanted to be killed by that man. That would defeat the purpose of holding on for eighteen miserable years.

"You want to die? You want to leave?" Sam said to her. Both were rhetorical. Neither were meant to be answered. He planned to do what he was about to no matter what the answer was. "Fine." He aimed and pulled back the safety clip.

* * *

><p>The team had already burst into the house.<p>

They searched the house from top to bottom, looking for anything that would lead to Bridget and hopefully Sam Rose. Just as they were about to search the garage JJ had just spotted from the upstairs window, Reid felt something odd beneath his feet.

He looked down at the rug underneath him. It was perfectly flat against the ground and it appeared nothing was being concealed underneath it. Just to be sure it wasn't just his imagination, he bounced a little and he was positive that it was hollow. He sidestepped onto the dusty hardwood floor and lifted the rug.

Underneath it was a little trapdoor just large enough for a man the size of Morgan to fit through.

"Guys! Come here!" he called. Soon enough, everyone was huddled around him, looking down at the door.

Reid took hold of the latch and pulled it up. He saw a long set of stairs that lead down into something no one could really see. You could tell it wasn't a room, but a corridor. Just as Reid was about to step down the stairs…

_BAM! _A gunshot.


	8. Chapter 8

After the shock that lasted only a few seconds, Reid forced his guns into JJ's hands.

"Hold this," he told her before attempting to hurry down the steps.

"What are you doing?" Hotch asked; not allowing Reid to go down there unarmed with no protection except a vest.

"I've got to go down there!" he exclaimed, "What if it's Bridget?"

"What if it's not?" Hotch countered. They spent a few seconds simply looking at each other, both very serious. Then, quick as he could manage, Reid turned and ran down the stairs. Morgan and JJ stood up to back him up, but Hotch stopped them, "He knows what he's doing." And, boy, did he hope he was right.

* * *

><p>Reid ended up at a door at the end of a hall. He took a deep breath and pushed it open. Light flooded into the usually dark room. Immediately, he saw her.<p>

A bloody mess. In a perfectly still position, like a photo had been taken and she was forever preserved that way. But alive.

Her arms covered in dry blood from the cuts she had inflicted upon herself. Her hair was long now; perfectly brushed as if Sam had made sure she looked somewhat nice, but still orange as ever. She was extremely pale, but her blue eyes were still bright. Still like the little girl Spencer knew. She was pointing a gun in her outstretched arms directly at the dead body of Sam Rose.

"Bridget," he breathed excitedly. He had the urge to run up to her and give her a hug, but the gun in her hands discouraged that idea.

The second she heard his voice, she pointed the gun at him with noticeably shaking hands. "Who are you?" she asked. "Get out. I'll shoot you."

"Bridget," he repeated, unable to keep the grin off his face. "Bridge, it's me. Spencer."

At this reply, she seemed to get _very _upset. "Don't call me that!" she shouted, "You're not Spencer! Spencer's dead. He… he died in a car crash. He's gone." She explained, calming down more with each word.

"No. Everyone told me the same thing about you. I swear, I _am_ Spencer Reid," he did his best to persuade her, but he was still so happy to see her he was having troubles with what to say.

She looked like she had a headache, or wanted to pull her hair out, or _something_. "You're not Spencer!"

"Did _he_ tell you that?" Reid gestured at the dead body of Sam on the floor.

She looked down at Sam, then at Reid, and a few tears fell from her eyes. She seemed extremely frustrated and lost and not sure what to think anymore. Again, Reid wanted to run to her and comfort her, but she still had the gun pointed directly at him. She shook her head. "You don't know a thing about me."

He felt himself smile a little to himself, "Well, that's where you wrong," he laughed.

She looked at him like he was a psychopath muttering to himself on the streets. So he continued.

"I know that your name is Bridget Michelle O'Reilly. Or… Bridge. I know that you love mint chocolate chip ice cream but you can't eat it because you're mildly allergic to chocolate." She began looking at him a little more curiously now, so he went on, "I know that your best friend was in high school when you were seventh grade. And one day, he was tied naked to a goalpost so _you_ helped untie him after everyone was gone, but you wouldn't dare open your eyes. I know you kissed that same boy on the forehead every night because you thought it might help make the voices go away. I know your sister died when you were two and your parents never paid much attention to you after that. I know you're a Christian and I know the day you went missing you had strawberry ice cream with sprinkles. I know everyone you meet likes you instantly. And I know I am Spencer Reid," he finished.

She looked at him, lowering the gun just a little. "How did you know that?" she questioned.

He shrugged, "I told you. I'm Spencer."

She pulled back the safety clip, fed up with all this nonsense. In her mind, there was no way this man could be Spencer Reid.

"Wait!" he said quickly. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out, holding it up for her to see. "I know Spen- I… gave you something like this for your birthday." It was a little necklace. Actually, it was a little bit more like a carved piece of wood on string.

That sold it for Bridget.

As tears poured from her eyes, she dropped the gun and ran over to Reid. She wrapped her arms around his waist and sobbed. After a second, he returned the hug.


	9. Chapter 9

Reid's POV

I was sitting next to Bridge on a couch in the police department. I had one arm around her and she had a blanket wrapped around her tightly as if she was paranoid.

"Where's mom and dad?" she asked me, speaking her first words since we had arrived nearly forty-five minutes before.

"Well," I started awkwardly, scratching the back of my neck.

Before I could answer, she answered her own question. "They're dead, aren't they?"

I didn't _want_ to answer, but I felt like she had to know. "You're dad, yes. You're mom practically dropped off the face of the Earth."

"Oh." Is all she replied with. She didn't look up once when she spoke to me. She looked scared and guilty, and that's what confused me. Scared, I could understand. Guilt, though, is something she had no reason to feel. Yes, she killed a man. But he was going to kill her, and it was self defense. She did nothing wrong. I settled on the thought that she simply thought killing a man was bad.

"You didn't do anything wrong, you know," I told her; trying to reassure my friend.

She looked at me nervously and looked as if she was about to say something. But she heard the loud sound of Morgan and Hotch coming in. She turned her head quickly, looking absolutely terrified. When she saw who it was, she eased slightly. But not much.

"Reid, we need to talk to you," Hotch ordered, walking into a different room and waiting for me.

I started to walk off, but Bridget grabbed my hand.

"No!" she pleaded, "Don't go away." Her lip quivered and her eyes were big and sad. I couldn't say no to a face like that, but I couldn't say no to Hotch either.

"JJ!" I called across the room. She came over and I looked down at Bridget, "Bridge, JJ's going to stay with you for a couple minutes."

"Actually, I have to-" JJ started but I had already hurried off into the other room.

I closed the door behind me and looked at Hotch.

"What? What is it?" I asked hurriedly.

"Look at this," Morgan held a photograph of Sam Rose's dead corpse out in front of me.

"What about it?" I questioned while stuffing my hands into my pockets, but quickly taking them out. I was so filled with emotions at this point that I really didn't know what to do with myself and I was constantly fidgeting.

"This is Sam Rose," Hotch held out a different picture.

I took that one in my hands along with the other one and examined them closely. They looked the same to me. I saw no difference, but I had a bad feeling considering they felt the need to show these to me. Suddenly, something clicked in my brain.

It wasn't Sam.

Sam must have told someone else what to do, what to say, and how to do it. The odds of him planning that we would get Bridge were slim, but he knew _his_ chances of getting caught were pretty large, so he sent someone else in. Someone else to kill off Bridge.

"He's still alive," I muttered – mostly to myself – as I stared down at the pictures in shock. "Bridge isn't safe…. He's still alive." I repeated.

I turned around and opened the door only to find Bridget standing right there with tears in her eyes.

"I knew it," she said. "I knew that wasn't him." She clutched the blanket around her with her hand tightly as if it were the only thing keeping her alive. "He's gonna come back," she choked. "He'll get me. And he's gonna kill me."

And she was right. There was no doubt in my, or anyone else's mind, that as long as Sam was alive – he would be trying to get back "his Bridget."

* * *

><p><strong>I bet you all thought Sam was dead and the story was over! You were wrong. Ha ha. I am the ever-seeing eye of this story, so I know everything that shall happen and you do not. MWAHAHAHA! Oh, you want to know what happens, eh? Alrighty. Well, first-<br>WAIT! I'm not telling you. :P**


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